


Glorious Work of Art

by killerweasel



Series: Waiting For the Other Shoe [2]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-27
Updated: 2013-07-27
Packaged: 2017-12-21 12:24:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/900269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killerweasel/pseuds/killerweasel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one has ever looked at Newt like that before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glorious Work of Art

**Author's Note:**

> The tattoos described in the fic come from [this concept art](http://killerweasel.tumblr.com/image/56346621833).

Title: Glorious Work of Art  
Fandom: _Pacific Rim_  
Characters: Newton Geiszler/Hannibal Chau  
Word Count: 1,169  
Rating: NC-17  
A/N: AU after the events of _Pacific Rim_  
Warnings: n/a  
Summary: No one has ever looked at Newt like that before.

 

Newt wakes up with Hannibal sprawled over him like a human blanket. Hannibal gives off heat like a damn furnace and Newt is coated in a layer of sweat. He glances down at Hannibal’s head on his chest. He can feel drool from the man’s mouth soaking into his shirt. There’s no way he can just squirm out from underneath him either, not with Hannibal’s elbow in his ribs.

“Hannibal.” Newt smiles at the muttered cursing he gets as a reply. “Hannibal, you’ve got to get off me. You’re heavy, man.” When that doesn’t work, Newt flicks Hannibal on the ear. The larger man’s eyes pop open, shooting Newt a sleepy glare. “If you don’t move, I’m going to lick my finger and stick it in your ear.”

“Don’t even think about it.” Hannibal rolls off of Newt with a grunt. “You’re comfortable and I was having a fantastic dream.”

Newt sits up, peeling off his sweat-soaked t-shirt and tosses it on the floor. The cooler air in the room hits his skin, making it break out in goose bumps. He hears Hannibal make a noise beside him and he turns to see what’s wrong. Hannibal is staring at him in a way he probably should find uncomfortable. It takes him a moment to realize what Hannibal’s staring at and when he does, he can feel his face flush. 

He’s not even sure why he’s embarrassed because he shouldn’t be. He loves the ink on his skin. Most people can deal with the tattoo sleeves unless he gets over-excited and starts babbling about why he picked what he did (which is pretty much always). The rest of it though... it can be a bit much. He started sleeping with a shirt on after the first few people made comments. It was just easier to leave the majority of it covered up.

“I can put the shirt back on.” Newt starts to scramble off the bed and Hannibal’s hand shoots out, wrapping around his wrist almost tight enough to hurt. “Or not. Let go and I’ll let you have a better look.”

Hannibal’s fingers slide over the skin of Newt’s wrist once more before he drops his hand on the bed. “Damn, kid. You’re a work of art.” 

The tone makes Newt blink in surprise. Hannibal’s serious. He’s never had anyone look at him the way Hannibal is looking right now and he’s not sure what he should do. His tongue flicks out, wetting his lips. “You don’t think it’s too much?”

“No, I really don’t.” Hannibal’s eyes travel from Newt’s navel up to the hollow of his throat before slowly taking in the art on the rest of his chest and stomach. “It’s gorgeous.”

The noise Newt makes doesn’t even come close to being manly, but he doesn’t care. “Most people don’t say that.” He moves on the bed until he’s sitting across from Hannibal. 

“In case you haven’t realized it, Newt, I’m not most people.” Hannibal stretches his hand out toward the large Kaiju on Newt’s chest. He hesitates until Newt tilts his head. He smiles as he hears Newt suck in a breath when Hannibal’s fingertips trace over the edge of the tattoo. “This is stunning.”

No one has ever touched him like this. Newt swallows a couple of times when Hannibal’s other hand strokes his stomach. He wants to tell Hannibal about the process he went through, how he’d decided against normal tattooing and went with Irezumi instead because it just felt right. It didn’t matter how much money he was spending or how much it hurt (it hurt like all the circles of Hell and then some), because once he started, he wasn’t planning on stopping until he was finished. His first session was over two years ago and there’s still skin waiting to be inked. 

Newt really wants to say something, but for the first time in his life, he’s speechless. All he can manage are tiny whimpers as Hannibal keeps touching him. Touching isn’t the right word. He feels like a content cat that’s being stroked in front of a fireplace. Hannibal’s hands are everywhere, touching every inch of tattooed skin they can find. 

It suddenly dawns on him that Hannibal’s been talking the whole time. Newt hasn’t really paid attention as he’s more than a little distracted. He manages to focus for a moment and what he hears brings a huge smile to his face. 

“You’re fucking gorgeous, Newt. This is dedication. This is commitment to your passion. I’ve worked with guys with ink like this; I know how long something like this takes.” Hannibal leaned in closer to get a better look at the art on Newts ribs. “Amazing.”

The touches, which had started off feather light, are lasting longer and starting to brush against the edge of Newt’s boxers. Then Hannibal’s mouth is on his throat and Newt’s brain overloads. The sound he makes causes Hannibal to chuckle against his skin. Hannibal moves a little until his lips are by Newt’s ear. “Some day I am going to trace over every inch of ink with my tongue until you’re writhing on the bed. Then I’ll fuck your brains out.”

Hannibal’s hand is on the front of Newt’s boxers, stroking him through the fabric. It takes Newt three tries to get actual words to come out of his mouth. “You could do that now. I’m very cool with that.”

“Nah. I do something special like that, we have dinner or something first. Or maybe we can play with some Kaiju guts. We’ll make a whole night out of it.” He pokes Newt in the hip. “Ditch the boxers.”

Newt takes his boxers off in record time. He groans when he feels Hannibal’s hand wrapping around his aching cock. Then Hannibal’s jerking him off while saying some of the filthiest things Newt has ever heard. This is going to be quicker than Newt would like, but he finds himself not really caring. The words are cut off when Hannibal’s teeth sink into the soft skin of his throat. That’s more than enough to bring him over the edge. He spills his release on Hannibal’s palm, breathing hard. He’s about to suggest Hannibal use the boxers to clean himself up when he sees the other man start licking his fingers. 

Hannibal sits back. “I seem to have a problem.” He gestures at the tented front of the sweatpants. 

“I see that. Um... I need a shower.” Newt almost falls getting off of the bed. He keeps his back to the wall as he moves towards the door, causing Hannibal to arch a brow at him. “If you think the front looks good, you’re going to love the back. By the way, the shower’s big enough for two. Maybe I can help you with your... problem.” He vanishes into the hallway.

Hannibal gets to his feet. “I do like the sound of that.” There’s a smile on his face as he leaves the room.


End file.
